No Stone Unturned (22 page)

E
ven after double English, normally one of her favourite lessons of the week, Kelly was still feeling unsettled by her early morning adventure in the churchyard. She was certain that the grave she and Ben had found was the one they were after. The date, four victims, and that epitaph: A shock severe. These were tragic, unexpected deaths, that was for sure. But she couldn't understand why there were no names, only the four sets of initials and ages on the footstones. And why no mention of how these four people died? It was as if no one wanted the world to know what had happened to them.

Kelly needed some advice, so at break-time, rather than heading to the canteen for her usual apple juice and flapjack slice, she climbed the stairs to the history department on the top floor, hoping that Mr Walker would be in his room. Thankfully, she found him there, cleaning his whiteboard and humming the opening bars of an old AC/DC tune.

‘Sir?' she said tentatively, knocking quietly on the door.

‘Kelly!' The teacher broke into a grin. ‘Everything all right?'

Kelly told Mr Walker everything, bringing him up to date about the map, the newspaper cutting and what she had discovered that morning. She could see that he was intrigued.

‘I've just got to find out some more about this William Denton, but I don't want to upset my friend.'

‘No, well, that's understandable.' Mr Walker folded his arms across his chest as he perched on the edge of his desk. ‘Perhaps you should work on this on your own for a while. Give your friend some time. He'll let you know when he's ready to open up some more—or maybe to find out more.'

‘That's what I thought,' agreed Kelly. ‘But I don't know where to go next, to be honest.'

Mr Walker explained that if she had a name, and the date of death, Kelly might stand a good chance of tracking down a death certificate. ‘They started making official civil records of births, marriages and deaths in 1837, so you're well after that. Death records for this area aren't online yet, so you have to write to the Records Office, or go there in person and apply for copies. That would probably be the quickest thing to do. The office is easy to get to. It's right next to the Town Hall. And the staff are usually really helpful. I went there a lot last summer when I was working on that book about our local First World War heroes. They open every weekday until four I think.'

‘What would I need to do?' asked Kelly, getting out her notebook.

‘Just give them the details of the person you want them to search for. First and last name, the date they died, and where. They will check to see if they hold the death certificate you want and if they do, you can apply for a copy.'

‘Would they be able to trace someone from just the initials and the date and place of death?' asked Kelly.

Mr Walker pulled a face. ‘Hmm, that might be tricky. I think a full name is easier. I'm not sure you'll be able to trace all four of your victims. Anyway, that'd be a bit expensive for you. It costs a tenner for each death certificate.'

Kelly groaned. ‘I might have to stick to William, then, for now.'

She thanked Mr Walker and virtually skipped off to her next lesson in the maths block. Her spirits had lifted. She was back on the trail.

For the rest of the morning, and especially during a particularly dull algebra exercise, William Thomas Denton kept popping into Kelly's head. Could she really find out who he was? Would she discover why this man was significant to Ben? She hoped so—and she hoped that Ben would understand why she had to keep digging.

Then her heart sank. Mr Walker had said the Records Office closed at four. Even if she went straight there after school, realistically she would only have a few minutes before they closed. That would be no use at all. And tomorrow was Saturday. They wouldn't be open.

The need to know some answers about the mysterious W. T. D. was like an itch she had to scratch. She would have to bunk off school and go to the records office that afternoon. There was nothing else she could do.

Kelly checked her pocket. She had enough money. No surprise really. She'd been so busy meeting up with Ben lately that she hadn't had time to go to the shop, where she usually spent most of her allowance.

She sat through the rest of her maths lesson biting her nails, secretly planning her escape from school while her maths teacher's monotonous voice droned on and on in the background about what
x
and
n
were equal to. For once, Kelly didn't care. Her stomach was doing somersaults as she weighed up all the risks of playing truant.

When the bell finally rang for lunch, she was first out of the classroom. She shot down the corridor to her locker and took out her bag and coat. Then she nervously waited for Leanne to appear.

As she approached, Leanne smiled and waved. Friday was fish and chip day in the canteen and the pair of them had planned to eat together. Her face fell when she saw Kelly holding her coat.

‘You going somewhere?'

‘Ssssh,' hissed Kelly. ‘I need you to cover for me. I've got to sneak out for an hour or two. I'll definitely be back in time for the bus but I'm not going to be here for afternoon registration. Can you cover for me?'

Leanne grinned conspiratorially. ‘Course I can. Does a bear shi—'

‘All right, all right!' Kelly cut in, pulling her friend closer and out of ear-shot from a group of Year 11 boys who were mucking about by the lockers behind them. ‘Can you tell Mr Walker that I'm doing an errand or something? I don't know. Say I'm putting out chairs for afternoon assembly. Anything so he doesn't mark me down as absent.'

Leanne nodded. ‘Sure. But just be careful. You'll have to sign out, so make sure you time it so that there are no teachers about when you do it. Charlotte used to tell Reception she had a dental appointment or something. They never checked.'

‘Thanks, Leanne,' whispered Kelly. ‘I owe you one.'

‘No, you don't,' said Leanne, giving Kelly a wink. ‘I still owe you plenty.'

* * *

The lady at the Records Office was really helpful. Kelly explained that she was working on a history project for school and the lady seemed to accept that as a reason for her to be there during school time. That was a relief. Sneaking out had made Kelly feel sick with nerves. The fact that she was missing lunch and her stomach was empty didn't help.

The lady entered the details that Kelly had for William Denton into her computer and then asked Kelly to take a seat, while she went off to see what records they had in their archive.

Alone in the waiting area, Kelly sucked on an old humbug she had found in her blazer pocket. It had been there so long that bits of the wrapper had stuck to the sweet, but Kelly didn't care.

The lady seemed to be gone a long time. There was nothing to do or read to keep Kelly occupied, apart from a dull-looking poster on the wall about using online census records to trace your family history. The stuffy warmth of the room, combined with fatigue after her early start to the day and a slump in energy after the adrenaline rush of sneaking out of school, all began to make Kelly feel decidedly drowsy. When the back office door suddenly opened, Kelly jumped and shot to her feet as if she had been electrified.

Pleased to be bringing good news to such an eager customer, the lady trotted triumphantly back to her desk and gestured to Kelly to sit down in the chair opposite her. ‘I've found your William Denton,' she chirped, ‘so we can definitely provide you with a copy of his death records.'

‘Brilliant.' Kelly beamed.

The lady peered over the top of her glasses at her. ‘But you will need to pay a fee of £10. Are you able to do that, my dear?'

‘Sure.' Kelly felt around in her pocket and produced a crumpled ten-pound note.

‘Lovely,' said the lady rather primly, taking the tatty note from Kelly with her fingertips as if afraid she would catch something, and dropping it into her cash box. ‘Now, I just need you to complete your details on this form. I will give you a copy of the form and that will act as your receipt. All right?'

Kelly nodded, accepting the lady's offer of the use of her pen.

‘How long will it take? The certificate I mean.'

‘Oh, we will post it out to you. Should be with you by this time next week, at the latest.'

Kelly left the Records Office feeling a little deflated. She had thought that she would be able to bring the certificate away with her. Still, at least there was a death record for William Denton. It could have been worse.

By the time she got back to school, it was well after two o'clock. Her last lesson on a Friday was French, and started at twenty past, so she only had ten minutes or so to stay out of trouble before the corridors would be full of students moving from one classroom to the next. She decided to drop off her bag at her locker and head to the toilets. But as she was hurriedly signing back in at Reception, she heard a familiar voice barking her name. Her heart sank.

‘Kelly Hearn. Where do you think you've been?' It was Mr Walker, this time without the usual friendly smile on his face.

‘Er… I had to go the dentist, sir,' Kelly stammered.

‘Was that after you had to put out the chairs in the hall, or before?'

‘After?' Kelly said hopefully.

‘So your parents have phoned in, have they, to explain that they were taking you out? Or sent a letter perhaps?'

Kelly's shoulders dropped. ‘Sorry, sir. They haven't. I think they must have forgotten.'

‘Kelly, you aren't lying to me are you? I would be very disappointed if you were.'

Kelly couldn't look her tutor in the eye. She knew that he had put two and two together. She felt guilt oozing out of every pore. ‘I've been to the Records Office, Mr Walker,' she mumbled.

‘What was that?'

‘I've been to the Records Office,' she said a little louder, sneaking a look up at her teacher through her fringe. ‘I'm so sorry. I was just so curious. I couldn't wait. I knew I wouldn't have time after school. Please don't be mad.'

‘Kelly, as much as I admire your enthusiasm and your dedication to your homework, playing truant is a very serious matter. You know I can't let it slide.'

Kelly nodded. Her face burned red with embarrassment and her eyes welled up with tears. She knew what was coming next.

‘Detention. Monday after school. And I shall be telephoning your parents.'

Kelly bit her bottom lip.

‘Now where
should
you be right now?'

‘French, sir.'

‘Then you'd better get moving, before you get into any more trouble.'

That evening, Kelly had to endure another grilling from her parents. Sure enough, Mr Walker had phoned them and explained that Kelly had left the school premises without authorisation, and that she had missed a lesson. Kelly was pretty sure that her mum and dad were more angry about her wandering off into Stratford-upon-Avon on her own than they were about her missing classes, but either way they were furious, and she was sent to her room straight after dinner.

Lying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, Kelly wondered what Ben was doing, and if he was okay. She wished she could phone him, but she had no idea what his number was. Perhaps she should just go round to his cottage tomorrow. Surely he must have told his parents about her by now. They wouldn't mind, would they?

She leaned down over the side of the bed, pulled out her treasure chest and slid off the lid. The old boot was right on the top, and considering its age, and the fact that Tyson had been carrying it around the night before, it looked as good as new. She picked up the matching boot that Ben had left behind that morning, and held the two up alongside one another. Yes, they were a perfect pair.

Suddenly, she heard a movement outside her door, so she quickly dropped the boots into the box, replaced the lid and kicked the chest back under the bed.

‘Whatcha up to, Trouble?' asked Mum as she opened the door.

‘Nothing.' Kelly shuffled across the bed to make space for Mum to sit down.

‘I would have hoped you'd been using the time to think about what your dad and I spoke to you about over dinner. Why playing hooky isn't on, that is.'

‘I have,' Kelly assured her. ‘And I know you'll say I'm being cheeky, but don't you think that you guys have changed your tune a bit? You didn't even want me to go to secondary school, and now you're hopping mad at me for missing a lesson.'

‘It's the lying and the sneaking about that bothers us, Kelly. Your dad and I are worried about you. Ever since you met Ben, you've hardly been here. You're always off to meet him here, there and everywhere and all you focus on is that flippin' history project.'

‘Well, it's important to me. So's Ben.'

‘I know. And I know we should be proud of you, really, for taking your school work so seriously. Lord knows it's something I never had the chance to do. But we don't want you to forget everything else, you know…forget your roots. You know what I'm trying to say, Kel?'